


Obvious

by darkroses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring John Winchester, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Cliffhangers, Dark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Murder-Suicide, Obvious John, POV John Winchester, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkroses/pseuds/darkroses
Summary: It should have been obvious. John didn't know how he missed all the signs.**Please read the tags. This story involves heavily implied childhood sexual abuse and deals with how John deals with finding out. No attempt is made to romanticize the subject matter. This story could be triggering for some readers; please read with caution.





	Obvious

It should have been obvious.

May 3rd, 1992

John arrived at the ratty motel after a long hunt and a frantic phone call from Dean. Something about Sammy getting hives and blistering. John couldn’t think of a thing Sammy could have gotten himself into.

John entered the motel room to see Sammy whimpering on the bed. His little boy’s lips and fingers were covered in angry red blisters. He stepped over to take a closer looked as he brushed Sam’s hair out of his face. It looked like an allergic reaction. Gently John knelt down and kissed Sam on the forehead and said quietly, “It will be okay, boy.”

Sam stared at him with an expression John never saw before. He chalked it up to Sam, hurting, and being afraid. He gave Sam’s scalp another gentle scratch before he retrieved a dose of Benadryl and some aloe vera cream. Sam took the Benadryl without complaining about the bubblegum flavor and barely winced as John applied the aloe.

Once Sam was all patched up, John asked, “There you go. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Sam shrugged and turned his back to him. Sam’s voice sounded scratchy, which concerned John, “You forgot my birthday.”

John winced he did forget Sam’s birthday. He gave Sam’s shoulder a squeeze and said, “Sorry, kiddo, got to keep the world safe. How about once you’re feeling better we can get some pie and ice cream to celebrate?”

Sam shrugged again and drew the blankets up over himself. Despite Sam being old enough to do so himself, John tucked the blankets around him.

March 14, 1993

John sat across from the school counselor and nurse. He didn’t remember their names, and it didn’t matter. The counselor was on the younger side when she said carefully, “Mr. Winchester, have you noticed any changes in Sam?”

John stared at her blankly for a couple of minutes. Aside from Sam’s shower protest and smelling ripe, everything was fine. Dean said Sam wanted to conserve water or something. John said equally carefully, “Is this about his hygiene?”

The counselor and the nurse shared an unreadable look with each other. The nurse spoke this time. She was an older lady. “It is about Sam’s hygiene. He wears the same clothes every day, and it doesn’t seem like Sam has bathed recently.”

John sighed. He hoped Sam would figure out the importance of not stinking on his own. He figured a couple bullies would help Sam understand the importance of being clean. John relented, “I noticed. I figured it was a phase and to let him grow out of it.”

The nurse gave him a hard look and spoke slowly, “Sam refused to shower when we offered. He looked terrified.”

John had a sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t explain it. John pulled both of the boys out of that school the next day. He dropped Sammy off at Bobby’s place, and he took Dean hunting. John knew he was running away, but Bobby could always get through to that boy better than he could.

April 7th, 1995

John sat on the hood of the Impala with Dean. They were sharing a beer and having a father-son moment. John took a swig of his beer and asked, “So Dean, why do I never see you going out?”

Dean shot him a sly look and shrugged. Dean ran his finger over the rim of his glasses and said quietly, “I have everything I need.”

John leaned back and stared out at the stars. He let his mind drift. He remembered when he thought he had everything he needed. Back when Mary was alive, but those days were in the past. John knew he was a selfish bastard and he could never forgive himself for the way he treated Mary.

John really couldn’t blame Dean for not wanting to have a one night stand and he was young anyways. John took a drink and said to no one in particular, “Someday, I will kill that thing which took my Mary. Then we can all settle down.”

December 24, 1996

John stood outside the motel room door and listened to his boy’s fight.

Sam sounded defeated, “Dean, it hurts.”

Dean sounded amused, “Shh Sammy, just relax and let big brother take you.”

Sam whimpered, “Dean, please, you don’t have to do this.”

Dean chuckled, and the sound of what John assumed to be play fighting filled the air. John stepped away from the door to find a bar. He figured he would let his sons sort out their childish antics on their own. He didn’t have the energy to put up with it tonight.

February 20th, 2000

John was bone tired when he walked into the motel room. He expected to see his boys sound asleep, but that was not the sight that greeted him. Instead, Sam was tied up naked on his belly on the bed. Tears stained Sam’s face, and an old sock was haphazardly taped into Sam’s mouth. John made his way over to Sam. He tore off the gag and checked the clip on his gun in one sold motion.

Then John handed Sam a lockpick so Sam could free himself. While Sam worked on that, John asked, “What happened? Where is Dean?”

Sam didn’t answer. Instead, Sam removed the shackles a little slower than his practice speed and wrapped his blankets around himself like a barrier. Once John deemed the room clear, he looked at Sam.

For the first time in years and perhaps ever, he really truly looked at Sammy. Sam was broken. He’d seen men break in Nam. He knew that look. Maybe it was the life they lived. Perhaps it was something else. John didn’t know because he was never there to ask.

Before John could ask, the door to the room fling up open, and Dean’s voice rang out loud and clear, “Is my little bitch boy ready to be good?” The mocking and condescending tone did not sit well with John. John stepped out to face Dean. Only to receive a quick reply from Dean, “This isn’t what this looks like.” The defensive tone did not sit well with John.

John stepped towards his oldest and asked slowly, “Just exactly what isn’t what it looks like?” John noted the items in Dean’s hands, a bottle of lube and a butt plug. John thought it was the grace of God that kept him from throwing up. He gritted his teeth and said firmly, “Come on, Dean, we’re going for a walk.”

++

It should have been obvious. John did not know how he missed all the signs. All the tells. Sam thrived at Bobby’s house when Dean wasn’t there. The questions from the schools stopped when Sam was alone with Bobby. Sam never seemed enthusiastic about being left alone with Dean. It was more than that, though.

John wasn’t sure when it started, but he knew when he had the first sign, and he missed it. Sam was nine years old and had an allergic reaction to latex around his mouth. John felt bile rise in his throat as he thought about what Dean forced his little brother to do.

John wiped the tears from his eyes, and he stood in the middle of a forest with a monster that rivaled the thing that killed his Mary. John raised his gun up slowly and pointed it at Dean’s head. His hand shook as he held the gun and John had always prided himself in having a steady grip.

John could barely see Dean through his tears. He asked, “Why, Dean? Why did you do that to your brother? You were supposed to look after him.”

Dean gave John a confused look and said blankly, “You said he was mine.”

John let out a sob and closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the forest, spooking the birds and making the animals call out. John opened his eyes and took in the slumped body of his son. Dean’s green eyes were open, staring lifelessly into nothing.

John knelt down on the forest floor as he took out his phone and rang Bobby. The drunk answered on the first ring. “You need to come to get Sam.” John did not wait for a reply. He laid the phone down on the ground and picked up his gun. John knew what he did was unforgivable. He let Sammy down in the worst possible way. He should have seen the signs. John wiped his eyes and choked on his own bile when he realized he walked away from the sounds of Sam being raped.

He could never face Sam or Bobby or anyone again. John felt unclean, and he did not believe he could get clean again. The damage Dean inflicted on Sam was his fault. He should have been there. He should have been Sam’s father. He should have stopped this. John let out a painful sob. The last time he made this sound was when the firefighters carried Mary’s body bag out of the burnt house.

John could hear Bobby yelling at the other end of the phone, but he couldn’t make out the words as he held the gun to his head and pulled the trigger one more time.

_

November 2nd, 2005

Sam let his eyes drift closed. He was just about asleep when he heard a crash come from his kitchen.

For the first time in years, Sam felt fear.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
